pieces…

…yesterday, i went to therapy and everything went well. i read my 🕵, some things that i wrote and she said that they sounded good and not weird. we talked a lot about an event that i don’t like to talk about.

one of the reasons why i don’t like talking about it, is because all i have are flashes of information…black and white still photographs with text, that play through my mind like slides from an old-time projector.

the only other information that i have, was relayed to me via s***h, my mom, my sister, and k***y. s***h and k***y were the only ones physically there, when i was in the hospital for thirteen long, terror-filled days.

there were things that were misdiagnosed, things that were left untreated, and things that made no logical sense to me. i don’t think that i will ever truly know what happened to me. s***h filled in some blanks.

however, i was left with huge gaps and these weird snapshots, that are so random and bizarre. s***h told me that i was basically catatonic, but had “superhuman” strength, ability, and agility…my instinct was flight.

i remember needing to get away at any cost. there are photos of me in a backless gown, with a huge tattoo, barging into a fireside, prayer meeting. photos of me signing myself out of the hospital against medical advice.

i see myself flying down the corridor of the hospital, knocking over a security guard trying to catch me, eluding “capture” by two others, and making it outside to fresh, cool, pacific northwest air. i breathed for a moment.

then, i was “captured” like a wild lionness and i struggled. s***h told me that the officers were quite rough with me, bending my wrists and arms trying to get me to comply. i was handcuffed and thrown into the back of a car.

i was taken to a place that had no medical care, nurses, doctors, or cnas. my vitals were checked occassionally. i have no memory of this other than a photo of a weird girl and a strange recliner. i was left alone.

at some point, my body began to shut down from the missed medical problem. my kidneys and liver failed. at some point, i stopped breathing. i don’t have any idea how long it went unnoticed, neither does s***h.

i was taken back to the hospital. my mom was called to give permission for a pick line, which she did, and i was placed on a ventilator. i don’t know how long i was “comatose,” for all intents and purposes, and on the ventilator.

mind you i never wanted to be on a ventilator. it’s not a choice that i would have chosen for myself. i understand that s***h did what she felt was right and i don’t think that i actually had a dnr on file at that time.

i don’t fault s***h, however, i do fault the hospital for misdiagnosing me and placing me in an area that was not medically supervised. after careful thought and consideration, i’ve determined two things.

i’ve never been the same, cognitively speaking. i have real problems with understanding verbal and nonverbal communication. i have problems deciphering other people’s intentions. my personality isn’t the same.

i’m going to request my records from this time period, so that i can piece things together to get a clearer picture about what really took place and how it’s affected me. and, i will hopefully be able to see how long i was without o2.

my theory is that i suffered some amount of hypoxia, which lead to some brain damage. my mri’s would support this as there are two spots of “scarring in my brain. i’ve also been asked by two different neurologists now (one in mt and one in nv), when i suffered my traumatic brain injuries.

i’m going to put the pieces of this puzzle together and solve it.

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